Kittenfluff
by Taliatoennien
Summary: Two different stories from the same challenge: "Guy gives Marian a kitten."  G/M fluff, some G/M angst.
1. Kittenfluff 1

**_Robin Hood_**** Kittenfluff**  
><strong>ladykate63<strong>: or maybe I'll write a piece of fluff in which Guy gives Marian a kitten.  
>Me: Heeee! I'll eat that up.<br>Me: Please have the kitten stick its claws up Marian's nose and make it bleed.  
>Me: I mean, he WOULD give Marian a kitten.<br>**ladykate63**: He'd probably just shove it at her.  
>Me: But then the kitten would claw her, and Guy would hold his breath, and Marian would laugh.<br>Me: And then Guy would kiss away the blood and they'd start making out and the poor forgotten kitten would go knock over every pottery jar in the kitchen.  
><strong>ladykate63<strong>: There you go!  
><strong>ladykate63<strong>: YOU, my dear, should be writing G/M + kitten fluff!

So, LadyKate, this is for you ... written without a beta at one thirty in the morning. And dedicated, of course, to Scully the Crazed Hyperkitty who just had to be kicked out of the sink ... again ... (disclaimer: not mine, no money, yada yada)

Little Things  
>by Alicia<p>

Guy had never courted a girl before.

Loved one, yes. More than once, which was all more than he would admit. Ladies were to produce noble-born heirs; wenches were for fulfilling one's own needs, and love was weakness. Period.

Guy actually hadn't been sure if he'd believed that even before Marian. Not considering the looks he'd seen in Annie's eyes, a very few times, a combination of beauty and vulnerability that had made him want to stand between her and the entire world and protect her. That, of course, was a feeling he could not feel.

He felt it every time he looked into Marian's eyes, however. She had strength, and coldness, and pain. Guy had demonstrated his power over Marian when he had burned her house and confined her to the castle shadowed by one of his goons. He protected her. And he didn't understand why he wanted to do more. Why he wanted to see that same look of trust in Marian's eyes as he had seen in Annie's, so very long ago.

"Sir Guy" a servant boy said, interrupting Guy's thoughts.

"What?" Guy snarled.

The boy looked terrified. That could be a good sign, or it could simply mean things were normal. "Sir Guy, the old barn cat went off and had another litter in the stables, and now we can't move the horses past the big stall."

At least, the kid probably would have said that if Guy had not cut him off at 'stall.' "And you are troubling me with this because? Throw the brat into the well and clean my stables!"

"Yes, sir," the child said, and he made as if to scamper away.

"Wait," Guy said. He thought of Marian. Part of her beauty ... part of what Guy wanted to be for her, he wanted her to cleanse him, yes, but he also wanted to be trusted and trustworthy with her pain. And perhaps a small creature might persuade her to open up, might persuade her to love him. He remembered how Marian had looked when she had seen the horse he had given her. "Move the litter to my quarters instead."

"Sir Guy? We can't move them for at least another day."

"It is fair weather, can we care for some of the horses outside until then?"

"Aye, but ..."

"Figure it out," Guy said shortly. "Just don't tell Vaisey anything about this."

He left as another bewildered "Aye" echoed through the courtyard.

~

Even with their mama right beside them, kittens were still extremely noisy houseguests, Guy discovered. They cried when there was nothing to cry about. They batted things around at all hours of the night. They were also ... such fragile creatures. Two weeks after Guy began his career as host to kitty family, the smallest kitten died.

Trying not to think about what Vaisey would say if he discovered Guy's menagerie (and failing that, constructing as many cruel bird references as he could should he need them), Guy buried it beside the entrance to the woods. There were three more kittens, after all, plenty to choose one to give Marian.

Two days later another kitten died, though. And then another. Perhaps it was the wrong time of year, perhaps the barn cat hadn't had enough to eat, perhaps the litter had been moved too quickly after all - since Vaisey had come within a hair of discovering them as it was. Perhaps kittens were simply too fragile. Nothing that wasn't strong could survive. Vaisey had taught Guy that for as long as they had worked together.

When the barn cat herself began to weaken, Guy prepared to scrap his entire plan and find another way to woo the ever-more-distant Marian.

But then a tiny grey tabby kitten began to run, to pounce and explore.

~

Guy estimated that the little creature was just over eight weeks old when he took it from his room (_finally_ sending the barn cat back to the stables in the process), wrapped it in a blanket, and went in search of Marian. There would be no time for an elaborate charade with a blindfold. Marian looked haunted, Guy was out of breath for fear that Vaisey would find him, and Vaisey was tramping around somewhere on the castle battlements yelling something about finding Robin Hood.

Marian looked ... well, worse than usual, when Guy finally caught up with her in a corridor just outside her quarters. "Marian," Guy said.

"Sir Guy, this is not a good time," Marian made as if to push around him.

"I got you a gift," he growled. After all he had put up with these past two months indeed.

Marian looked at the bundle in his arms and her eyes widened. "It is not a baby..."

"No, of course not. May I come in?"

Marian sighed, and in that moment all the cares of the castle seemed to drain out of her, and Guy wanted to take her in his arms and make everything all right. "Yes."

Guy followed Marian inside. She waited, an look of expectation on her face. Guy stammered, "I thought you would like ... I know you like horses, and humor is sorely missed ... here," Guy said, and he unceremoniously pulled off the blanket and thrust the grey kitten into Marian's arms.

She took it, and there was mingled wonder and disbelief in her eyes. The kitten immediately purred like an advancing storm cloud, then, with one deft motion, swiped its paw across Marian's face.

A single drop of blood ran down Marian's nose.

Guy froze.

The kitten continued to purr and bat at Marian's face.

Marian laughed. A tinkling sound with a real current of joy underneath, a sound that Guy hadn't heard in ... what felt like years. And in that moment he _was_ her protector, and it felt wonderful.

Marian waved her hand in front of the tiny kitten, and continued to laugh as the kitten continued to swat.

She was so beautiful.

Guy fought the urge at first, but finally allowed himself to wipe the blood from Marian's nose with his hand.

Marian caught the hand. And looked at him.

She wanted him to protect her. She wanted him to _kiss_ her.

And slowly, Guy bent down to do just that. He moved at the speed of molasses (completely opposite the now-braver kitten), asking permission with each movement. Marian met his lips.

There was a long moment ... just long enough to become lost in one another ... and then there was a crash from the bedstand as the previously-arranged vase of flowers went crashing to the floor.

Guy and Marian looked up simultaneously. Then they chased the kitten.


	2. Kittenfluff 2

It's past two in the morning, so this is the only story I'm coming up with tonight, will do the others tomorrow!

Disclaimer: I don't own _Robin Hood_, Guy, or Marian, and I'm not making any money from this story.

**ladykate63**, this is for you, obviously. You asked for a sequel to the previous kittenfic, and ... there really isn't much to tell in that universe (the story is already finished), so I just thought of an alternate way to write "Guy gives Marian a kitten." Canon (except for the small fact that Marian then has a kitten from 2x01 forward, a fact the writers somehow failed to mention...), set right after 2x01, "Sisterhood." More angst than fluff. :D Because you _know_ I'm in the mood to write angst.

She knew what had happened before. Marian and her mother and her father had barricaded themselves in their house away from the peasant mobs with their torches and boiling oil and screams. They were the good guys. She knew how the story would end. Marian would wind up alone, in a sea of ashen rain, next to the burned bodies of her parents. Sometimes with her own limbs seared. But that never stopped her from trying, from chasing through the halls throwing water on the flames, from hurling herself and her parents out the windows, from hugging her mother one last time.

Marian awoke before the scenario could play itself out completely. She was drenched, but in sweat, not in water from the cistern used to quench flames. It was all right. It was only a dream. She sat up and reached for the robe on the side of her bed.

Reality. It was a cold pallet in the stone walls of Nottingham Castle, and Marian was still in her day clothes because she had nothing else to wear. Her bedroom was no longer there. It had vanished in ...

Flames.

Shaking all over, Marian went to her father's room. He had shifted to one side of his own cold, hard bed. He was asleep, but in a position which looked like he had been tossing for hours. Not yet. It was not bad enough yet to wake her father. Careful not to wake him, Marian pushed him toward the center of his bed, then spread the covers completely over him. She tiptoed away.

Even the night air would be better than the flames.

Licking over her, consuming everything she knew, white hot with pain ...

No, that wasn't right. She had been led out of her home before she had seen it completely burn, and she had not looked back. No flames had touched her skin.

Even though she could feel them. Like ghost knives, able to pierce all the way through without severing limbs and nerves, so they could be felt over and over and over.

She paced back from the railing, careful to walk in the center of the corridor. One step, then another. It had all been a dream. The worst parts had been only in her own mind.

Eventually, as the night inched from false dawn to true dawn, Marian found her way into the kitchens. A noise - one that wasn't that of a screaming mob of peasants or Guy's voice saying "BEG" - called for her attention. Welcoming the distraction, Marian followed it. There was something mewing in the corner of one of the big cooking counters.

"Hello," Marian said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you." She held out her hand, coaxing. "I just want to meet you."

A graceful, flexible cat poked first its nose, then its whiskers, then its whole body, around the corner of the counter. It mewed a few more times.

"Hello," Marian said, laughing. "I'm Marian. What's your name?"

The cat came all the way out, approaching her without fear. A kitten, Marian decided. An older kitten who had long limbs that it hadn't yet grown into. It seemed to decide Marian was safe, and purred loudly, rubbing on either side of Marian's legs.

"Awww," Marian said. She scooped the cat up into her arms. It squirmed - not as if it wanted to be released, but only as if it was excited by the new person and the new motion - and twisted and batted her left hand. Then it drew its claws across her right, latching on in the style of kitten play. Marian winced, but the pain itself was a distraction from the things she was still fighting not to see and hear. Still attempting (vainly) not to soil her dress, Marian sank to the floor with the kitten, and used her left hand to detach its claws from her right. She petted the kitten. It purred more loudly, snuggling into her lap as if it had been there all its life. It released something deep within Marian, and she cried. Only a little. When she heard a noise from the kitchen door, she pushed it back. "Who's there?" she called softly.

The figure did not answer, but came through the kitchen door into the light from the moon and the slowly rising sun through the eastern window.

"Guy," Marian said. "You are up early."

"You found your present."

"What?"

Guy's voice was gruff. "I had raised the kitten here in the castle. I intended to have it brought to you at our wedding."

There was _nothing_ Marian could say to that. Instead, she looked down at her lap, still absently stroking the kitten's head. It had fallen asleep. And it was _hers_, already hers, but ...

Guy knelt down beside her and offered his hand to help her up. "It is late, or early. The Sheriff will not like you being out of your quarters."

Marian took his hand, but remained seated on the floor, the other hand seemingly glued to the kitten's head. Not so different, really. Both Guy and the kitten had left scars, but both sets of scars were bearable, and both were ... somehow hers.

Guy tugged on her hand. It reminded Marian inexplicably of being "swept off her feet" at her supposed wedding.

"Can I keep the kitten anyway?" Marian blurted out. Silly question, really; the kitten had already attached itself to her.

"It is of no use to me." Guy looked as if he might say something else, but he didn't.

He _never_ did, and suddenly that was beyond unbearable to Marian. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?" she blurted out. "For humiliating you? A man like you?"

"It might," Guy said, cooly. Then his armor cracked just a little. "Would it help if I said I was sorry for burning your house?"

"I can still feel it," Marian whispered. And to her ultimate humiliation, the dream once again became completely real, and the agony of _both_ her parents' deaths, never mind that Edward was alive, he was alive and well and asleep upstairs, but there was that loss, and her hands were burned beyond belief, and no, that was just kitten scratches, and those didn't matter, and Marian felt tears flood down her cheeks, and she was helpless against them. She turned her face away from Guy.

She could not have anticipated what would happen next. She expected Guy to humiliate her, or mock her, or even hit her, or turn and leave her alone in the kitchen. But instead he put his arms around her. Not naturally, as Edward or even Robin would have done, but from the side, awkwardly. And it didn't matter that it was Guy, he loved her because he had raised a kitten almost to adulthood for her, and he was _there_ and Marian needed him so badly, and she abandoned pretenses and wept into his chest.

And then there was stillness. Stillness and silence, but no more flames.

Guy rose easily, and offered Marian his hand to help her up. This time she allowed him to pull her to her feet, but still more awkwardly than she would have liked, because there was a softly complaining kitten cradled in her other arm. It stirred and clawed her a little. She let it.

"I will arrange to have a water bowl delivered for your quarters, and to have the kitchen send scraps with your evening meals," Guy said softly. He hadn't let go of her hand.

Marian had a million questions, and the biggest of all was, what did Guy mean by being so cruel one minute and yet so awkwardly kind? She wanted to know if this meant he was a man she could love after all, but that was a question she could only answer for herself.

Instead, she contented herself with "thank you," and tried to put all her gratitude into her eyes.


End file.
